


I've Got Him

by AnneCumberbatch



Series: Sometimes in the Evening [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Annoyed Sherlock Holmes, Caring Sherlock, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Flu, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, M/M, Paternal Greg Lestrade, Protective Sherlock Holmes, Semi-secret relationship, Sick John Watson, Sleepy John Watson, Sometimes in the Evening, domestic life, privacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 17:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17943638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneCumberbatch/pseuds/AnneCumberbatch
Summary: He returned to the living room and looked down at John. “You’re going to weigh so much more than I’m prepared for, aren’t you.” Sherlock grimaced slightly as he mapped out the best way to lift his partner.





	I've Got Him

After paying the cabbie, Sherlock went inside and up the stairs, eager to wash the smell of formaldehyde from his skin. As he entered the flat, he paused, surprised by the silence. It was bearing close to midnight, but John usually was up and about waiting for his return. He had expected to see John in the kitchen or hear him in the living room typing on his computer, but there was silence. A quiet rustle from the sofa drew his attention immediately and he found his missing flatmate stretched out on the sofa sound asleep. As Sherlock drew closer to him, the soft noises of John’s breathing reached his ears. He knelt beside the sofa and tapped his beloved on the arm. “John. John, wake up.” John’s eyelids flickered but remained closed. Sherlock was sure John was hearing him, but perhaps his exhaustion overpowered his ability to wake entirely. “John, you know you shouldn’t sleep on the sofa, come on.”

With increased effort, John slowly pried open his eyes, blurrily looking up at him, his face soft from sleep. Sherlock looked into John’s glassy eyes and his stomach dropped as he realised his partner was sick. “M’not feeling well… just short kip…” John’s eyes slid closed again.

Sherlock huffed a sigh. John had told him a strain of flu was going through London and, of course, it was only a matter of time before John caught it. “John, last time you fell asleep on the sofa, it took me almost three hours to get your shoulder back into commission. I know you’re not feeling well, darling, but you will be so much happier in bed.” Sherlock brought his hand to rest gently against John’s cheek.

John nuzzled into his hand, still not rousing.

Sherlock gave another sigh. “I really don’t want to carry you. But I will. Come on, last chance, help me, John.” 

John shifted on the sofa, settling deeper into sleep.

Sherlock kissed the top of John’s head gently in resignation and stood to go take a shower before he moved John. A few more minutes wouldn’t make much of a difference in the long run.

After he dried himself off and dressed in his pyjamas, Sherlock cleared the path to the bedroom and set out to make the bed welcoming. He plumped the pillows on John’s side of the bed and turned down the sheets to make it easier to set his partner into the bed. He pulled out John’s favourite pyjamas from the dresser and tossed them onto the bed. While he was preparing the bedroom, his phone dinged with a text from Lestrade, asking to stop by and drop off paperwork that needed to be returned in the morning. Sherlock estimated how quickly he could get John into bed and responded with an affirmative. He was quite confident in the time it would take Lestrade to travel to Baker Street, he could have John tucked away in bed. He returned to the living room and looked down at John. “You’re going to weigh so much more than I’m prepared for, aren’t you.” Sherlock grimaced slightly as he mapped out the best way to lift his partner.

He leaned over John, careful to not put strain on his back and wove one arm gently under John’s shoulders. He put his other hand under John’s thighs and with an exhale and quick prayer that he wouldn’t drop him, Sherlock lifted him up, grunting slightly with the exertion. Once he was standing, his arms trembled slightly from the weight of John, but he held him close in this strange embrace. As he turned towards the bedroom, Sherlock started abruptly, his eyes widening as he saw Lestrade standing in the doorway watching him. His grip on John strengthened reflexively and John shifted in his arms, his head nuzzling against Sherlock’s chest. “How long have you been standing there,” Sherlock demanded crisply in a sharp whisper.

Lestrade smirked at him, leaning against the doorframe. “Just a few moments, I saw you pick him up. Do you do this often?” 

Sherlock shifted John’s weight in his arms. “No. He’s ill and exhausted. I thought you were still at the Yard.”

“I was already downstairs waiting for the alright to come up. I’m sorry to hear he’s under the weather. You need a hand? He looks kind of heavy.” Lestrade’s brow had creased slightly in concern, but a look of amusement was still prominent on his face.

“I’ve got him. Just give me a moment, will you.” Sherlock gave him a glare and brushed passed, gently carrying John into the bedroom. Once in the room, he set John gently onto the bed and closed the door behind them. He pulled off John’s shoes and socks and set about swiftly undressing him to get him into his pyjamas. John shifted briefly throughout, very much in a deep sickness-induced slumber. After Sherlock finished dressing him, he gently arranged his body on the bed and pulled the covers up and around him, tucking him in. Sherlock perched on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through John’s hair. “I’m sorry you’re ill. We’ll get you better soon,” his soft whisper loud in the quiet room. He pressed a kiss to John’s forehead before standing and turning off the lights.

He closed the door softly behind him and strode forward to where Lestrade was helping himself to a glass of water in the kitchen. “Not a word about this to the rest of the Yard.” His eyes sought out Greg’s intensely, but also pleading with him. “Privacy is very important to John and he would hate for people to know about this.”

Greg met his gaze with fatherly affection. “Sherlock, the rest of the Yard still doesn’t even know you’re together. They won’t hear a word about it.”

Sherlock relaxed slightly and nodded. “Thank you. Paperwork?”

“On the table.” Greg nodded towards it. “I need it back tomorrow morning, do you want me to stop by on my way in or will you come drop it off?”

Sherlock contemplated before responding, “I need to stay here in case John needs me.”

Lestrade nodded. “I’ll be by here around 7:30 tomorrow morning, I have my own key so you can leave it at the top of the stairs if you won’t be up by then.”

Sherlock nodded appreciatively. “We won’t be.”

Placing his empty glass in the sink, Lestrade smiled briefly at him and walked towards the door. “If you need anything, either of you, let me know, alright?”

Sherlock followed him to the door. “Alright. Thank you.”

Lestrade let his hand rest on Sherlock’s shoulder for a moment before saying goodnight and letting himself out. Sherlock gathered up the paperwork from the table and searched in the living room for a pen before returning to the bedroom. He sat down on his side of the bed, turned on the nightstand light, and took the paperwork out of the folder. As he worked, he kept a close eye on his partner, sleeping next to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, and critiques are always welcome. Thank you for reading!


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